up my usual look somewhat, in a short black dress and killer heels,
and gone all out dramatic on the eye make-up, partly hoping it would act like a
mask and no one would recognise me.
My stomach was all over the place and I hadn’t
eaten all day, my head was spinning with ‘what if’s’ and the thought of seeing
Jason again had meant, by the time we arrived at the venue I had just stopped
short of barricading myself in the car and refusing to leave. Ever. Sasha was a necessary calming influence and I felt
sure the five years I had on her in maturity were far from on show tonight.
“Deep breaths Lotty , you’ll be fine. Some of the
outfits might be different than you’re used to, but apart from that it’s just
like any other party. You pitch for a living, turn on the charm Sweetheart”.
Her little pep talk made me laugh as I took a deep breath and followed her into
the club.
It was dark, enchanting and mysterious, full
of men in high end, well cut suits and women in a variety of outfits, all
stunning and glamorous and the air was so thick with testosterone you could
practically smell it.
Sasha
beckoned over a handsome dark haired man almost as soon as we were through the
door. He was early thirties I guessed, well over six feet tall with an accent
that made me melt all over, making me think he’d
studied at Oxford or Cambridge. He was incredibly attentive to her, staring
adoringly before she shooed him to the bar for two glasses of champagne. “Is
that him?” I grinned as she winked, glancing around the room and nodding. “I
can’t see Jason though” and I could hear the faint tinge of disappointment in
her tone. “You need to go and mingle Lotty , but just
make sure you wait to be approached, remember the rules OK? And relax, you look
stunning, just be yourself and have fun. Remember, there are absolutely no
expectations on you”. I nodded, taking a deep breath as she beckoned her
barrister, and I couldn’t help but smile at the thought that he’d soon be
prostrate with those huge killer heels jarring into his back.
I
made my way into the centre of the room, following the lead of the other women
there and assuming a suitably feminine and subdued pose. It reminded me of one
of those 1950’s dances I’d seen in films where the women sat on benches looking
demure and docile, waiting to be picked by the men. It was such a contrast to
the cut and thrust world of advertising that I occupied every day, foregoing my
femininity for thinly disguised aggression in the race to success, that I
actually enjoyed the contrast. It was nice not to be pigeonholed as permanently
one thing or another, and the flexibility of trading positions was as exciting
as it was enlivening, and for the first time I could see where the barrister
with the beautiful accent was coming from.
“Hello” said the deep voice, stirring me from
my thoughts as my eyes travelled upwards over the tall, broad man standing
before me and I smiled to myself, I was off the bench. “Hi I’m Charlotte” I
said, craning my neck to meet chestnut eyes, dark brown hair with natural blond
highlights, a rock solid body and crooked nose that hinted at years on a rugby
pitch. He was ruggedly handsome with a dazzling smile. “Ewan” he held out his
hand, squeezing mine firmly in a gesture that was in no uncertain terms letting
me know he could pick me up over his shoulder in an instant and take me back to
his cave, and it was a strangely thrilling thought. “I haven’t seen you here
before” he smiled, the Scottish hint to his accent, like music to my ears and I
was beginning to find the whole environment strangely exciting, full of
unspoken possibilities and utterly intoxicating. “It’s my first time Ewan” and
he tilted his head, assessing me closely. “Let me get you another drink
Charlotte” he grinned as I waited for him to return from the bar.
I
didn’t have to wait long, concluding that men like Ewan got served
and gone all out dramatic on the eye make-up, partly hoping it would act like a
mask and no one would recognise me.
My stomach was all over the place and I hadn’t
eaten all day, my head was spinning with ‘what if’s’ and the thought of seeing
Jason again had meant, by the time we arrived at the venue I had just stopped
short of barricading myself in the car and refusing to leave. Ever. Sasha was a necessary calming influence and I felt
sure the five years I had on her in maturity were far from on show tonight.
“Deep breaths Lotty , you’ll be fine. Some of the
outfits might be different than you’re used to, but apart from that it’s just
like any other party. You pitch for a living, turn on the charm Sweetheart”.
Her little pep talk made me laugh as I took a deep breath and followed her into
the club.
It was dark, enchanting and mysterious, full
of men in high end, well cut suits and women in a variety of outfits, all
stunning and glamorous and the air was so thick with testosterone you could
practically smell it.
Sasha
beckoned over a handsome dark haired man almost as soon as we were through the
door. He was early thirties I guessed, well over six feet tall with an accent
that made me melt all over, making me think he’d
studied at Oxford or Cambridge. He was incredibly attentive to her, staring
adoringly before she shooed him to the bar for two glasses of champagne. “Is
that him?” I grinned as she winked, glancing around the room and nodding. “I
can’t see Jason though” and I could hear the faint tinge of disappointment in
her tone. “You need to go and mingle Lotty , but just
make sure you wait to be approached, remember the rules OK? And relax, you look
stunning, just be yourself and have fun. Remember, there are absolutely no
expectations on you”. I nodded, taking a deep breath as she beckoned her
barrister, and I couldn’t help but smile at the thought that he’d soon be
prostrate with those huge killer heels jarring into his back.
I
made my way into the centre of the room, following the lead of the other women
there and assuming a suitably feminine and subdued pose. It reminded me of one
of those 1950’s dances I’d seen in films where the women sat on benches looking
demure and docile, waiting to be picked by the men. It was such a contrast to
the cut and thrust world of advertising that I occupied every day, foregoing my
femininity for thinly disguised aggression in the race to success, that I
actually enjoyed the contrast. It was nice not to be pigeonholed as permanently
one thing or another, and the flexibility of trading positions was as exciting
as it was enlivening, and for the first time I could see where the barrister
with the beautiful accent was coming from.
“Hello” said the deep voice, stirring me from
my thoughts as my eyes travelled upwards over the tall, broad man standing
before me and I smiled to myself, I was off the bench. “Hi I’m Charlotte” I
said, craning my neck to meet chestnut eyes, dark brown hair with natural blond
highlights, a rock solid body and crooked nose that hinted at years on a rugby
pitch. He was ruggedly handsome with a dazzling smile. “Ewan” he held out his
hand, squeezing mine firmly in a gesture that was in no uncertain terms letting
me know he could pick me up over his shoulder in an instant and take me back to
his cave, and it was a strangely thrilling thought. “I haven’t seen you here
before” he smiled, the Scottish hint to his accent, like music to my ears and I
was beginning to find the whole environment strangely exciting, full of
unspoken possibilities and utterly intoxicating. “It’s my first time Ewan” and
he tilted his head, assessing me closely. “Let me get you another drink
Charlotte” he grinned as I waited for him to return from the bar.
I
didn’t have to wait long, concluding that men like Ewan got served
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